


Imagine sneaking Crowley a cup of champagne for New Year’s

by redmasque



Series: supernaturalimagine [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Champagne, New Year's Eve, One Shot, POV Second Person, supernatural imagine prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 08:46:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redmasque/pseuds/redmasque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“How kind of you,” the demon remarked. You couldn’t tell whether he was being bitter and sarcastic, or genuinely surprised at your behavior. </p><p>“It’s no problem, really.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Imagine sneaking Crowley a cup of champagne for New Year’s

You poured two glasses of champagne slowly and carefully as the boys watched the television in the next room. Sam was desperately trying to defend his taste in music to Dean as the television broadcasted a live concert in New York City. Castiel sat on the couch, staring at the brothers, and, if you had to guess, the look on his face was a bit more amused than it usually was these days. Even Kevin was relaxing for once. (You had almost resorted to physical force when trying to pry him off of that damn angel tablet before he decided to let loose on his own free will.)

The four of them ignored you as you slipped down the hallway with your two glasses of bubbling alcohol in hand. You strolled into one of the bunker’s storage rooms—one you’d probably been through a million times already, though you don’t think you’ve ever actually looked in any of the various boxes and shelves lining the walls—and over to the giant, cured iron door that stood in your way. In an attempt to be at least somewhat graceful, you placed the glasses on the ground behind you and opened up the sliding doors just wide enough for you to slip in easily. You picked up the two glasses again, and step inside.

“And what have we here?” A familiar voice asked from the far side of the room.

“A new year’s gesture of benevolence, if you’d like it,” you answered, switching on the lights with your elbow. Crowley sat shackled to his chair in the middle of the devil’s trap as always, tapping his fingers on the table in front of him.

“Is that so?”

“It is.” You lift the glass in your right hand and place it in front of him, stepping into the devil’s trap yourself to do so.

“How kind of you,” the demon remarked. You couldn’t tell whether he was being bitter and sarcastic, or genuinely surprised at your behavior.

“It’s no problem, really.”

Crowley contemplated his glass for a moment before plucking it off of the table with a nearly melodramatic sense of sophistication. He lifted it into the air, staring calculatingly at the almost-golden liquid inside. The demon almost smiled.

“Well, then,” he stated, “here’s to the new year, eh? One full of original sin and sweet comeuppance?”

You grin and raise your own glass in a toast.

“Here’s to it, then.”

The two of you took a long sip in perfect synchronization, and, for a moment, the room was silent. Crowley nursed the drink for a few minutes and you found yourself sitting on the edge of the cold metal table in front of him. The smile, once on your face, hadn’t managed to completely slip away, and you found your face aching slightly, though you felt like you were unable to completely stop. Here you were, buzzed and in a dungeon with the former King of Hell/the Crossroads, on new year’s day; it was likely snowing outside, and, despite the beauty of “the old days”, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere other than the bunker during the last winter holiday of the year.

“I like you,” the demon suddenly stated.

“What was that?” You heard what he said, but you just wanted to double check that the champagne wasn’t getting to your head any quicker than you thought it was.

“I think you’re good company,” Crowley mused. “ _You_ bring me a drink on new year’s eve. _You_ sit down here and tell me lame jokes when you’re bored. _You_ have a whole damn gang of your freedom fighters up there and _you_ want to spend some quality time, sitting and thinking with little old me. I like you.”

“I’m glad that you appreciate my being here.” You silently thought that you were glad he didn’t consider you a bother.

“You should run along back to the quartet waiting for you out in the living space, then,” he sighed. Crowley held out the glass to you, his cured iron manacles jingling as he did so. You nodded at him, taking the empty glass back. You stood up and left the room, turning the lights back off as you went. Just as you reached the door, however, Crowley spoke up again.

“If you happen to come across a bottle of good Craig out there, don’t hesitate to drop on by again with those glasses. I’ll show you what a real drink should taste like.”

You laugh.

“Sure thing, Crowley. Happy New Year.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, waving you off. You could hear the smile in his voice, though, and decide that your little trip was worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> http://supernaturalimagine.tumblr.com/post/71802909253/anonymous is the original prompt link!


End file.
